


Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

by welcomebackpartyhardy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Mob Boss Bucky, Slow Build, This is a goodfellas/mob au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:23:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcomebackpartyhardy/pseuds/welcomebackpartyhardy
Summary: You're a girl who minds her own business, plays it smart and follows your own current. So what happens after you get roped in to going on a date with one of New York City's crime syndicate royals?A GoodFellas/Mob!Bucky au





	1. What's A Girl Supposed to Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [ Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1212735104/playlist/4exODHBEdTwBbumVPcitVN?si=kXRIQJVxSGiM1ZAvDCC9Qg) to accompany this fic and add another layer of atmosphere and immersion!

_“You’re a good girl, (y/n). Girls like you don’t go out with guys like him.” Thats what your best friend and roommateTerry told you after you’d informed her you’d agreed to go on a date with James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. You didn’t like him, not in the slightest bit from what you’d been told, but when he held up the line of your clearly busy register, you’d do anything to get him to scram just to get your boss off your back. And if that meant going out for a single, solitary night with Barnes then so be it, you could handle yourself.  
_

James, or Bucky as he was known around Brooklyn, was the practically adopted son of one New York City’s biggest Irish mob bosses. Of course, if you ever mentioned he wasn’t actually a member of the Rogers family, you’d get your teeth knocked out or a black eye as a warning. Often Steve Rogers, crown prince of the Rogers family and Bucky’s “brother” would be the one to deliver the warning, Bucky would then be the one to keep Steve from getting himself killed. Outside his very whispered about involvement with violence and crime, everyone knew him as playboy. You once heard Terry say he’d bring a different dame every night to the Bamboo Club, each one more beautiful than the last (you wondered how she knew so much to begin with but you didn’t pry knowing she’d talk her head off even more). Thus, it was a total surprise when Bucky Barnes had set his sights on you. 

Not to say that you found yourself particularly unattractive, in fact you never gave much thought to how other people perceived your looks, but according to your mother the way you carried yourself was the _real_ detriment to any suitor. When you’d asked her what she meant she’d told you you were too brainy, to stubborn, too spirited for any foolish man to be settled down with. And as much as you hated to admit it, she was right. You’d get the occasional silly fool who thought laying it on thick and cheesy would somehow soften your resolve and your brain sure, but it’d usually end up with them leaving in a huff of embarrassment and anger. You didn’t mind it actually, you knew you deserved much more than cheap attention. 

So when Bucky Barnes ended up in the record store you worked at, you wondered if maybe that day he’d caught you in a moment of weakness. Maybe if it had been a slow day at work you might’ve had the mental energy to shoot down one of New York City’s most important crime syndicate sons. Instead here you were, legs crossed in bed, dreading the coming of Saturday night as Terry spills every rumor she’s ever heard about one Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. You must’ve been staring off into space before Terry waves a hand in front of your face. 

“Shit Terry I’m sorry. I’m just thinking about how awful its going to be. He was insufferable this afternoon!” You tell her, flinging yourself back on to your pillows. She rolls her eyes. “Look on the bright side, at least you know he won’t be a cheap date! The Rogers are _loaded_ even with these damn territory wars with the Italians. I heard the last girl he managed to keep for a good while managed to get a diamond necklace out of him!” she exclaims. “ _Terry_ …” you practically groan. She knows things women your age gush about aren’t your thing, you’re not a woman who’s affections can be bought. She gives a little giggle, “Oh (y/n) life would be so much easier if you just give in like the rest of us simpletons and settle. How did the whole thing go down anyway?” she asks. You give a deep sigh as you recall and tell her:

_It had been a busy afternoon. The store had just gotten a new shipment of the latest Frankie Valli record so every teenage girl off from school had flooded in to buy it before they’d disappeared like hot cakes. You were ringing Valli record after Valli record, your mind buzzing with the repeated chatter of how damn handsome and suave Frankie fucking Valli was and how ideal he was, and how this and how that, 3 dollars over and over… Until you’d noticed the strange silence that finally fell over the store after the little bell over the door rang one more time. You looked up expecting too see yet another teenage girl, but to your surprise it was instead  two men, two impeccably dressed men in clearly tailor made suits. Every girl in the damn store’s eyes were practically glued to the two of them, whispering to each other so you guessed about how handsome the two of them were._

_The first man was a tall blonde with strangely soft blue eyes and well chiseled features who’s clearly fit body was well draped and accentuated in a solid blue suit that brought out his eyes even more. He gave off an almost golden glow. At first glance maybe you wouldn’t have detected a bad bone in his body but if you looked at him too closely you’d pick up on a stray scar on his face or hands and an ever present glint of **something** in his eyes. You’d later learned this man was Steve “the A_ _ngel” Rogers. You pondered later just what kind of angel that nickname entailed. He gave you a polite smile before heading to the big band section of the store. You quirked an eyebrow in response but he had not managed to see it._

_The second man however practically commanded attention in a different way. While one man practically radiated gold, this other was his opposite. Everything about him enticing interest with the strange air of mystery that sucked you in like a black hole. It wasn’t a darkness that one could consider negative, it was a darkness you could imagine some women wouldn’t be frightened to venture in. But not you, definitely not you. He looked at you as you gave him a glance, the ice blue stare of his eyes practically burned into yours and you looked down again at your register to avoid it. You caught a small satisfied smile creep up on his face from your periphery. He walked up to a nearby section of the more popular records trying to keep his eye on you, you suspected. You glanced up casually from time to time to get a better look at him._

_His hair was styled in a perfect side part, tresses of snipped chocolate curls draping just the right amount over his forehead. His jawline was perfectly defined and accentuated by a charming cleft chin, obscenely pink lips which seemed to be permanently smirking acting like icing on the cake. And of course to top it_ _ **all**_ _off, his eyes…his eyes were almost too piercingly blue,often verging on gray as he scanned the records. The black of his fine suit and the dark of his hair made them stick out even more and you could see why every girl within feet of him was practically sighing. You rolled your eyes at a few of them whispering behind him, giggling and scurrying away when he’d turned to look at them._

_You paid either man no mind after your observations, instead going back to ringing up Frankie Valli records from school girls. Your boss had come in to check up on how you were handling the influx of young customers. It was when the last few of the girls had all decided to flood your register that Bucky Barnes decided to have you ring him up. The girls practically begged him to cut in line and you gave a quiet scoff at them. You were glad you weren’t boy crazy at their age, you enjoyed a good walk, book, or go at sketching and painting than dealing with silly boys when you were that young. He leaned against the counter, crossing his feet a little in the process, you instantly knew what was coming next._

_“So, what’s a choice dame like you doing working on a Friday night? Shouldn’t you be out getting spoiled rotten on a date instead?”he said with a charming Brooklyn drawl. You resisted any and all temptation to roll your eyes at him, especially with your boss watching. You stuck your hand out instead, eyeing the Shangri-La’s record he was holding so he’d give it to you. He handed it over with a bright pink smile as you took it from him. He continued, “You’re a tough cookie huh? Don’t like talking much? Cause that’s ok. I could just stare at you all night instead when we go on our date.” You tried not to react but a small cross between a huff and a stupefied laugh escaped your lips as you rang him up. “Your total is 3 dollars.” you replied with just enough edge so he’d catch your slightly bothered drift. Instead of growing annoyed, he seemed to find your attitude amusing. You noticed the girls behind him staring daggers and whispering about you like you were a maniac for rejecting the advances of a handsome stranger._

_At that moment his angel faced friend decided to just cut in line too and hand over his Glenn Miller record to you. That gave Bucky a little more time to flirt with you and you wanted to curse the blonde. “Say Stevie, don’t you agree its a crime that a pretty girl the likes of this one, doesn’t have plans on a friday night?”, he said recycling the flopped line from earlier. “It sure is Buck, unless of course there’s something wrong with her” replied the blonde, now known to you as Steve. For some reason the last part of his statement prickled at you and you couldn’t help but reply with your teeth clenched in whispered annoyance,“Excuse me, but I am right here and no there’s nothing wrong with me. I just don’t like being hit on while I’m working by a couple of meatheads! Your total SIR is now 6 dollars. Will that be all?” You caught the stern look of your boss, you fucked up…_

_But when you looked at Bucky again he didn’t seem particularly cross or taken aback at you calling him a meathead, instead he looked down right charmed. That seemed to annoy you even more. Most would have called it quits by now. His friend looked absolutely tickled at the rise he’d gotten out of you. “You know it’s not every day I come across a dame ballsy enough to call ME a meathead. Now I gotta take you out ” he replied practically purring. Your boss gave a loud cough and proceeded to remind you that you had a pretty decent line of customers waiting. Your face heating up with embarrassment at having to be reminded. “What do you say doll?” Bucky asked, taking advantage of the added pressure of your boss to hurry it along. “Fine..Fine! I’ll go on a date with you just please move along so I can help the people behind you.” He gave you a down right beaming smile, if you had been anyone else you might have melted, but you were practically fuming with annoyance at Bucky’s success in roping you in._

_“Good. I’ll see you next Saturday for our date. I’ll stop by next Friday too to get your address and see your pretty face again. By the way, I’m Bucky Barnes” he said, sticking out a hand for you to shake. At the mention of his name your boss’ eyes practically bulged out of his head, and a few of the girls looked like they were going to wet themselves with what you thought was…fright? You gave him your hand only for him to kiss your knuckles instead, you rolled your eyes at that. Steve proceeded to pay for their things and give you a knowing smirk. They got their things and made way for the door, but half way through the doorway Bucky stopped and turned back to look at you, another downright glaringly delighted grin on his face, “Oh sugar, you never told me your name” he cooed. You sighed with annoyance, why wouldn’t he just LEAVE? “Its (y/n), (y/n) (y/l/n), you replied in an almost exhausted tone as you rung up the next customer. He gave you another prize winning smile, white teeth practically glinting “Can’t wait to see you again on Saturday, (y/n)” he said, saying your name like a breathy prayer as he left. You felt dread wash over you…you prayed next Saturday would come and go in a flash….._


	2. You Keep Me Hangin' On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bucky holds true to his promise to come bother the reader at work again and she finds herself softening up to him…just a little bit_

_You went through the week finding out what you could about Bucky, everything only seemed to increase the god awful nerves you’d built since the moment he’d begun messing with you. Outside of Terry, the first person to let you in a little on Bucky was your boss, Mr. Decker. After Bucky and Steve had left the store and it had cleared out, he’d set a little time aside to give you a warning. “Those boys that walked in earlier, you should be…careful,” he’d told you with an almost concerned look, “those boys are trouble dear. If I’d known he was that Buchanan boy I would have never rushed you.” He set an apologetic hand on your shoulder. You tried to ask why the pair were such bad news but it seemed as if Mr. Decker was afraid someone would hear him if he even said a bad thing about the pair of them._

That’s when you’d asked Terry after you’d gotten home. Her eyes practically bulged and fell on the floor when you’d barely said his name. You found out he was in the mob of course, that Steve Rogers was his brother, that he’d gotten what you considered idiotic and unnecessary crap for his part in befriending the Harlem mafia boss Sam Wilson in order to take and share the Queens territory from the Rogers’ biggest rivals, the Stark mafia. Like Rogers, if you talked shit about Wilson or his Harlem family, Barnes would be sure to teach you a lesson in respect. You’d also found out Barnes had grown up only a few block from your own Brooklyn neighborhood, a scrappy but charming kid who’d started doing the Rogers’ father errands from the time he was 13. He’d parked cars, helped maintain the Rogers’ bar, and made sure a once unbelievably scrawny and frail Steve didn’t get the shit kicked out of him by the other neighborhood kids; Barnes became a second son to Joseph and Sara Rogers, his own parents an apparent mystery to most.

And then of course you heard an over flow of things from Terry and the friends visiting the two of you about Barnes and his reputation with women. Rumors such as his short lived engagement to some Italian mafia princess at only 18 years old, which lead to his first stint with a real ass beating he’d barely managed to come out alive from, courtesy of the Stark family of course. This then led to sordid rumors, like that he’d gotten some college girl pregnant only to have her disappeared or that he’d managed to get a date and something _more_ with Liz Taylor (you didn’t believe it for a second but you had a feeling that if Liz wanted to she very much would have taken a liking to Barnes). With girl after girl mentioned you started to dread Saturday more than any other day in your life. So much so you forgot he’d promised to show up again the following Friday.

It was a slow one that was for sure, the Frankie Valli hype had died thankfully within that godawful and fateful day, so you got your regular handful of weekend customers in and near closing time you’d all but had an almost quiet hour to yourself. You sat behind the counter, leather bound sketchbook on your lap as you doodled a pair of lash adorned eyes, you were so concentrated you didn’t notice the bell of the door ring. You all but jumped when you heard the rumbling of a voice, pencil practically flying out of your hand. “So what do you recommend as of late? What’s the hot new record?” he said. You’d recognize that voice till the day you died probably, it had irritated you so much your ears had chosen to register it forever as to avoid it after tomorrow.

You gave a huff and hung your head a little remembering Bucky’s promise, rising out of your seat to lock eyes with man himself; that unbelievably pink mouth of his tilted up at the corners, eyes practically sparkling. “I don’t know…you a Liberace kinda guy?” you replied with a sideways smirk. “Nah, but I think Steve would dig that one,” he laughingly replied, “My little sister Rebecca liked her Shangri-Las record so maybe a little more of that would be good.” You were taken aback as a sweet and almost fond look adorned his face at the mention of his sister. You almost felt a pang of fondness yourself but you shut it down so quickly you killed the smile daring to make an appearance on your face. Now recommending music _was_ your forte _and_ it could be a much welcome distraction from Bucky’s nonsense. “The Shangri-Las are good buuuut,” you said coming around the counter to walk to the girl group section as Bucky swaggered behind to follow you in delighted surprise from getting a non hostile response, “I prefer the Supremes myself.” you said, sorting through the familiar cardboard sleeves, handing him the record when you’d found it.

He gave it a quick glance and then looked back at you, you hated how that smile of his was starting to hammer at the steel wall you’d built since the day you’d met. “I’ll make sure to give it to her then…So (y/n) you looking forward to tomorrow? Can’t wait to see you all dolled up juuust for me” he said, eyeing you up and down, he’d even had the audacity to lick his lips at you too. Whatever consideration you had started having for him definitely flopped dead on the floor now and you rolled your eyes. A touch of mischievous delight fell over you as you noticed his smile falter knowing he’d fucked up ever so quickly. “I don’t know. How do most people look forward to events along the lines of their next root canal?” you replied angrily. He gave a frustrated sigh and ran a hand down his handsome face. There. You were wearing him down, if you kept it up maybe he’d cancel the whole fucking night.

“Yah know I just _DON’T_ get it. On one hand it’s like you turn me into a hopeless little jerk. Every damn girl in Brooklyn practically turns to putty around me, but you! Christ, it’s like you’re made of marble! BUT on the other hand….why do I like it _so_ much?” he said practically growling, that salacious little smirk of his returning. _FUCKING HELL we’re you blushing at that, god no no no this was the opposite of what you wanted!_ You gave a startled reply, “M-maybe because for the first time in your life you can’t get what you want! After tomorrow, I’m never seeing you again! And if you come around here anymore I-…I’ll call the cops!” You made sure to inject a venomous element to your tone. He gave a deep and rumbling laugh at that. Fuck, you forgot his damn family practically owned the cops around here. You felt for the first time a very _real_ pang of fear towards the guy. And he noticed it….

“Look, that won’t be necessary doll. After tomorrow if you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll disappear,” he said raising his hands in a peaceful gesture followed by inching closer to you, a hand tucking a section of your hair behind your ear, “I’ll just be a handsome memory to look back on in your pretty little head. I can respect if a girl doesn’t want to see me again. Wouldn’t blame yah if you didn’t..” he said, just a flicker of something akin to sadness darkening his features. Anybody else wouldn’t have noticed it but you did, you didn’t think too much on it though and instead you found yourself believing him for some odd reason. The fear in your stomach settling only to realize he was uncomfortably close. You took a step back, a breathe you didn’t know you were holding escaping and that stupid stubborn blush on your cheeks making another appearance.

“G-good,” you replied sternly, heading for the counter as you pulled out a notebook and your pencil from underneath it. You scribbled out your address on a sheet of it and ripped it handing it to Bucky. “That’s my address, but if you ever show up at my house again _I’ll_ give you a good pummeling _myself_.” He gave a laugh only for it to be cut short by the serious and determined look on your face. _God_ , he felt genuine butterflies for the first time in ages at that look. _Of course_ he knew you wouldn’t be able to give a guy like him a run for his money in his area of expertise but something about the fire in your eyes was endearing and warranted his respect for you, and the way you weren’t afraid of him like everyone made something inside of him set ablaze. He nodded an eyebrow cocked in mischief accompanied by the biting of his lip in a brazen manner as he looked at you, “Yes m'am! Oh and by the way I did feel you might be more comfortable on this date if you had another dame around, so Stevie and his date are going to be joining us for dinner if that’s alright? I’ll pick you up around 7?” he said. You were a little startled at that strange sense of consideration on his part, but he was right that did settle some of your nerves.

You simply nodded your head at that and he gave a couple himself in return to bind the agreement. There was a moment of silence suddenly until he cleared his throat. “Mind ringing me up then? I’m sure you want me out of your hair. Can’t go exhausting you with my presence now before tomorrow can I?” he said with a smug grin. At this rate you thought your eyeballs might fall out of your head with the numerous times he’d made them rotate at him in such a short time. You took the record from him and placed it in a paper bag, he was about to pull his wallet out when you stopped him. He looked visibly confused at that. “This one’s on me,” you said, looking like you’d swallowed a handful of rocks in an effort not to smile. He quirked an eyebrow in question, “If we’re going to spend a whole damn night together lets at least make it pleasant as possible. Things’ll go faster that way. Consider it a symbol of truce” you said. You bit your lip and looked away knowing he’d probably have a very triumphant look on his face right about now, you couldn’t bare to let him get the one up on you but it was for the best.

“Aaah! Don’t start going soft on me now (y/n),” he practically giggled in childish delight, “…thank you though. I’m always one to be grateful for little victories.” You glanced at him again, that stupid infatuated look on his face burning into you, but you refused to give in. “ …You were leaving?” you muttered. “Right, right, right…see you tomorrow Sugar”, the way he whispered sugar knocked on the steel wall of your defenses just a little, but when he laid a warm hand on top of the one you had resting on the counter you felt of jolt of heat crawl up your arm and settle in to your chest, you almost let yourself be a gonner. You could’ve sworn he felt it too, but if he had he said nothing, instead he left you with the nagging feeling that he probably would relish in that silent little win until tomorrow night, when you would indubitably strangle it to death….


	3. Oh What A Nite!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The night of the reader and Bucky’s date doesn’t go so smoothly, but Bucky figures a few things out about her that leaves him wanting more…_

_“Will you stop that!?” shrieked Terry, watching as you practically wore a hole in the rug with your pacing. You stopped staring at the trio of black dresses laid out on the bed (boy you really needed to get some color in your wardrobe). Your hair was done, makeup courtesy of Terry, and you worried in nothing but your slip and underwear. For someone who wasn’t particularly looking forwards to this damn date you’d had a hell of a time picking what the hell to wear. Although you didn’t give a single fuck about looking good for Bucky, one of your personal little quirks was still caring about how you presented yourself should the opportunity present itself. It wasn’t so much vanity but the pride in being presentable, you figured you probably got it from your mother. Terry gave a little giggle at just how damn nervous you looked. “(y/n), you’ll look good in any of these. You’ll probably have Barnes on the floor the second he gets a look at you” she assured you._

"I don’t give a shit about what Barnes thinks! I just don’t want to look under or over dressed! He said we’d be going to dinner but not anywhere else. What if he makes me go to the damn Bamboo club like the rest of them?” you said while suppressing the urge to bite your freshly manicured nails. “Then wear the black cocktail dress you dolt,” Terry frustratedly sighed, getting up to pick up the dress in question, practically shoving it in your hands, “You can never go wrong with a little black dress. Plus this is one doesn’t look like you’re going to damn funeral!” You scoffed at that, you didn’t dress that bleakly did you? 

“Fine, I guess it’s the safest choice.” you begrudgingly agreed, pulling it over your head, Terry helping you zip it. You looked in the mirror, appreciating that you did in fact look pretty good. The dress hugging you in all the right places, the sheer elements around the straps of the dress and neckline adding a nice touch of classy sensuality. You hadn’t kept track of the time with your worrying so when a loud knock came from the front door snapping you out of your self admiration, you practically jumped out of your skin with a “OH FUCK IS IT 7 ALREADY!?” You slipped on your shoes, put your earrings in, grabbed your clutch, and slipped on your evening coat at such an alarming speed Terry couldn’t help but give a laugh at how panicked you looked. You composed yourself with a deep breathe and opened the door expecting the smug bastard you hated with a fiery passion, but instead found Steve’s angel face looking down at you in your doorway. The surprise very evident on your face, he gave a little smile.

“Wow, you clean up great! So uh, Bucky is a little caught up in some stuff at…um work..” he explained before you could open your mouth, “He asked me to do him the big favor of picking you up. He’ll meet us later. Luckily my date Sharon lives not too far from here.” You gave a small nod, thanked him for the compliment, and turned back to say your goodbyes to Terry, following Steve down to his car. You couldn’t shake the bad feeling in your stomach as you got in to the backseat. 

“Hi I’m Sharon” a soft voice said, breaking your worried concentration on the leather seating of Steve’s Cadillac. You looked up to see a girl about your age, as golden and angel faced as Steve looking ridiculously pretty in a powder blue dress. You gave her a kind but still jittery smile in return and stuck your hand out to her “Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m (y/n).” She shook your hand and with a little giggle turned to Steve, “She doesn’t seem half as scary as Bucky made her out to be.” You jerked your head back in surprise looking at Steve like he’d grown another head, he simply laughed ignoring the confusion on your face and instead simply said “Well ladies, we’re off.”  

—————————————

You ended up in what you knew as the swankiest goddamn steak house in all of Brooklyn for dinner. You couldn’t help but feel _a lot_ out place in the confines of the red leather booth you sat in, completely dateless across Steve and Sharon who chatted endlessly and with little to no effort. You wrung your hands in your lap thinking about how pathetic you probably looked, the awkward third wheel to the unfairly beautiful couple. An _hour_ had already passed and Bucky still hadn’t shown up. You managed to take a couple of bites of your food but the mess of emotions in the pit of your stomach made it impossible to enjoy your meal. Steve and Sharon kept giving you pitying smiles and inserting you in their conversation from time to time to ease your nerves, bless them. But you couldn’t help but feel like garbage.

Everything seemed too much; too much squeaking leather, too much smoke, too much chatter, too much…lonesomeness. Your mom had called it “feeling alone in a crowded room”, you hadn’t understood what she meant back then, you _liked_ being alone but alone like this…nobody could possibly be ok with that, it felt _humiliating_. Maybe it was the wine you’d managed to sip through the night, or just your stubborn spirit but you suddenly felt the anger in the cocktail of your emotions overpower everything else. No, you weren’t going to cry or feel sad because of stupid fucking Bucky Barnes. That prick was the whole reason you were sitting here looking like a fucking fool. You gave a loud and fiery huff of breathe, one so potent with anger Steve and Sharon turned to look at you. Sharon instantly recognizing just why Steve had said Bucky found you a little scary. Steve looked scared himself as you practically stared daggers into him.

“Steve I know he’s your brother but Bucky is a fucking idiot and I need you to take me to him right now.” you said, you looked like flames would shoot out your eyes at any minute. “(y/n) I-I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Steve managed to stutter out. “I don’t care Steve. I don’t. care. You’re taking me to him RIGHT. NOW.” you practically growled. “Steve I think you should do it.” came Sharon’s voice, an almost impressed look on her face. Goddamn she was so nice, maybe you’d get her number after this was all over, she’d make a great friend. “O-ok…but I’m taking Sharon home first ok? God he’s gonna kill me” Steve muttered. It made you huff out a laugh at the idea of the heir to the Rogers family being afraid of his second in command. 

As promised Steve took Sharon home, she wished you luck before giving Steve a quick kiss goodnight. After that you found yourself driving into the night alone with Steve. It had gotten painfully quiet in the car so you broke it, “He better have a fucking great excuse for this shit.” Steve gave a small sigh “I’m sure he does. Look I get you’re mad but in our…line of business, some things just take precedent.” You looked at Steve like you were about ready to rip his head off before he broke your spell of fury by breaking hard and muttering an “Ah shit.” You looked ahead at where Steve’s gaze had fallen and sure enough there he was, the goddamn culprit responsible for the fury that had permeated every inch of your body. And you honestly didn’t think you could get any madder. 

On the steps of what you assumed was probably one of the Rogers’ bars, surrounded by a group of other well dressed men laughing his stupid fucking head off was Bucky, a bottle of beer in hand and the other clutching his stomach. His tie was loose, a few buttons of his shirt undone, he looked absolute fucking peachy like he didn’t have a goddamn care in the world and you practically felt the flames of hell bursting from your stomach. And those flames compelled you to practically throw yourself out of Steve’s car, you could have probably made the ground shake with how hard you took each step towards Bucky, who now had his back to you. 

He must’ve realized something was up from the look on the men’s faces as they caught sight of you, some amused, some confused, some even worried. He turned around to see what all the fuss was about, his blue eyes going wide as saucers at the sight of you. “BUCKY FUCKING BARNES, YOU GOT SOME FUCKING NERVE STANDING ME UP!! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! FRANKIE FUCKING VALLI?! SOME BIG SHOT!!??” you yelled. The men behind the two of you began to chuckle but those chuckles got caught in their throats the second you shot them a look that could probably set them all ablaze. “Look (y/n)-” he started, but you didn’t let him finish. 

“YOU PESTERED ME LIKE A FUCKING SCHOOL BOY SO I’D GO ON THIS _STUPID_ DATE AND YOU STAND _MEE_ UP!? YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE A GODDAMN CLOWN! DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CLOWN TO YOU?!” you continued. “N-n-nO!” he stuttered. “THEN WHY WOULD YOU MAKE A JOKE OUT OF ME?!” you screamed, it took all the will power in the world not to cry. You weren’t going to give him that, you’d rather die. 

“I-I got caught up, I must’ve lost track of time…WAIT, YOU DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO GO ON THE STUPID DATE!” he said but you weren’t having any of it. You gave him a bitter laugh. “Oh no. No. No. NO. Don’t give me _that_ shit. It’s about the _**principle**_ of the thing Bucky!! As annoying as you are I thought you’d at least be a man of principle!!” That seemed to cut him somewhere deep because his eyes instantly clouded with hurt. Good, he deserved it.

“…You’re right” he said.

You couldn’t help but jerk your head a little at his admittance. You expected him to fight you more on it, he seemed equally a spitfire as you. “ _What?_ ” you said, more so out of shock than confusion. It suddenly got very quiet. Everyone seemed to be holding their breathes. Maybe because one of their biggest bosses was admitting to a strange woman that he was _wrong_ about something. Maybe they’d never seen Bucky yield to a woman so easily. Whatever the reason, everyone seemed to be thinking about how downright bizarre a thing it was to witness. The sound of Steve shutting his car door however, broke the silence making everyone jump. Bucky seemed to be collecting his thoughts as to what to say next. Steve gave the men around you two a look as to tell them to crawl back in to the bar so you could have your moment, following along with them.

“I-I said you’re right…I could’ve called the restaurant, left a message. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I gave you a load of shit just to go out with me and it isn’t fair to treat you like this. I know I have no fucking right to ask you this but….can I make it up to you?” he said, his head hung down in what you hoped was shame. Your mouth couldn’t help but continue opening and closing at a loss for words. How the fuck were you supposed to respond to that? On one hand he’d disrespected and humiliated your integrity, you could practically hear your mother’s voice telling you to shoot him down.   _But,_ on the other hand you felt his sincerity and a sudden electricity in the air between the two of you. It was buzzing around your head trying to coax you to give him another shot and for some odd reason…you let it. 

“ _Ok_.” was all you could muster the clarity to say. His head shot up again, a cautious smile grazing his lips. “Thank you.” he whispered. “You better not make me regret this again…” you couldn’t help but groan. He chuckled a little, one not too full of amusement as to not piss you off again. “I won’t I promise…Will you let me drive you back home?” he asked, his eyes looking a little glassy but light again. “How else am I supposed to get home at this hour you numb skull?” you replied. He gave you a bright smile, “Ok. I deserved that one.” You gave a tired huff and walked back to the car, leaving him looking a little stupid as he realized you weren’t waiting for him to go first.

_**Bucky’s POV** _

The drive back was quiet as he expected, but what struck him about it was that it wasn’t an uncomfortable kind of quiet. Even after she’d very clearly been upset with him and probably still was, he’d expected an awkward silence between them. Instead it felt like the air around them was still, peaceful as she looked out the window into the night. It struck him then that she really was different, he’d felt it the second he saw her in the record store window. He hated saying that to himself, of course all women are different but they were never different in the way he needed. He’d gone out with his fair share of girls but all of them shared one thing: they all seemed much too eager to please, eager to do what it took to get a piece of his money, his power, his status, but never a piece of him. 

And here she was, not giving a single shit as to what he had to offer or who the hell he was. She probably figured out by now what he did, everyone in the damn borough knew who he was, what he had or what he could do. But she wasn’t impressed or even frightened by him. Instead she gave more of a shit about herself. It wasn’t selfishness, it was integrity, it was character, and assurance in who she was, what she wanted, and what she deserved. And for once in his life he felt himself on the other end, felt himself being the one so eager to please. He barely knew her but something in him wanted to win her over. And maybe that’s why she scared him…just a bit. 

Because this one, this one wouldn’t be won with fancy dinners, sparkly things, cheap words, or pretty dresses. Deep down he knew it would mean cutting himself open and that was hard. Being the son of mafia boss meant being cold, being closed, wearing a mask of unshakable self possession; _any_ trace of weaknesses meant your downfall, he’d learned that. But he’d noticed it: noticed those fleeting moments when you’d softened up to him and it made him so sick with want for more of it. It was only when he’d let his poker face drop, when he’d mentioned Rebecca, when he’d let you know he was a man of his word to ease your worry, when he’d admitted he was wrong for the first time in his life. But he was willing to continue to show you that no matter how hard it would be for him and what it might cost and that scared him…

 _…a lot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to rev up from here!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll continue to add to the playlist as this fic goes along, although some of the songs predate the intended period, I feel they fit the intended atmosphere I'm trying to make. Please know as this goes along it probably will escalate in terms of the mob related violence you'd see in a movie like GoodFellas or the Godfather but for now I'll keep the warnings in the tags to a minimum until we get there!


End file.
